Eat, Drink and Be Merry
by Tanista2
Summary: When gray hair, barbecue-related accidents, the existence of coffee or chocolate on other planets and Christmas stories in Midsummer become normal topics of conversation for an unusual extended family. (Ad Astra 'verse)
1. Gray Hair and Barbecues

_Small, barely-there mention of S1 E09, Brief Candle._

_For a humorous short take on MacGyver and the perils of barbecue, see Ch. 2 of Tattoos of Memories ("well done, with ketchup") in my Domestic Adventures AU on AO3 as written by my collaborator, deepandlovelydark._

* * *

_There are few things so pleasant as a picnic eaten in perfect comfort. _

_\- W. Somerset Maugham_

-Gateway Settlement, New Earth. Midsummer's Eve, Year 10-

It's rather hard work, ensuing the survival of future generations by keeping the settlement going through reforged alliances and trade agreements with the Asgard and other interstellar allies both old and new. But at long last a respite after their struggles has been achieved. Now it's time to relax for a bit, rest on their collective laurels.

Or at least until the next crisis comes along, anyway.

The extended family SG-1 has become reclines on blankets in the soft Midsummer twilight, enjoying each other's company, the easy give and take of conversation before preparing for a lazy alfresco picnic on a gentle ridge overlooking the settlement, complete with a fishing pond behind them closer to the treeline and a covered shelter built by the guys last year.

A delicious smell of meat cooking wafts over from a makeshift grill and Jack's home-brewed beer sweats in ceramic bottles on the rustic table. It could almost be summer back on Old Earth, save for the twin crescent moons rising far off to the east and the slightly cyan shade of the grass (amazing how one can take even the colors of photosynthesis for granted).

"You know, it's the strangest thing," Becky muses, idly running her fingers through Jack's silvered hair as he rests his head on her lap. "You and Uncle Mac are the same age-"

"More or less," he lazily replies. "There was a time when I'd been prematurely aged by those damn nanites, though. Still not convinced they're entirely out of my system."

"-and yet there's lots more gray in your hair than his. Why is that?"

"Oh, that's easy. Though I'm loath to spill any of our family's deepest, darkest secrets-"

MacGyver throws his twin an irritated glare, which is blithely ignored. Jack's in the mood to wax dramatic and there's no stopping him.

"-and at the great risk of knocking my brother off the high pedestal you've placed him on, o beloved niece of ours-"

"The same one you're on, dear Uncle General-Governor-" Becky quips, playfully tweaking his nose.

"-I'm afraid I must confess that my own dear brother Angus-"

Mac groans. "Knock it off already, willya?"

"-dyes his hair blond!" Jack finishes triumphantly. "That's why his hair's less gray than mine."

Mac automatically lifts a hand towards his shaggy locks, thinks better of it. Beside him Janet bites her lower lip, valiantly holding back laughter.

Becky snorts, gives a dismissive wave. "Is that all? Figured it out years ago."

Jack raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really? How?"

"Easy. The funny chemical smell in the bathroom every few months was a dead giveaway. Not to mention the boxes of product that were never completely concealed in the trash."

Mac looks at her with dismay. "Hold on. You mean you already knew?"

"Fraid so, Unc."

Jack chortles.

The troubleshooter rolls his eyes. "Oh, for crying out loud."

"Mac, relax. You know he's just teasing you," Janet chides her partner, running a calming hand down his back.

"I know that Jan, but gosh darn it, he knows exactly how to get under my skin. Never been able to get the upper hand with him."

"Well then, how about next time he needs a medical exam I'll break out the big needles, hmm? He always starts sweating when I do that." Her smile is impish.

Mac grins and kisses her. "Now I know why I love you, doc. You got all the best dirt on my brother."

"Why'd you think you had to keep it secret, anyway? Was coloring your hair really so embarrassing?"

He squirms uncomfortably. "My body's already complained enough about getting old. Didn't want to be reminded of it every time I looked in the mirror."

"I hear you, brother," Jack says with feeling, raising his bottle of homemade beer in salute. "Old age sucks. Just ask my poor knees."

Becky chuckles. "It's simply one of those quirks I've learned to accept about you guys, Unc. Like your fondness for hockey, banana pancakes and Westerns. And," gently poking Jack's shoulder, "your inexplicable appreciation of opera, _The Simpsons_ and fishing in ponds which contain absolutely no fish."

He spreads his hands wide in an elaborate shrug. "Hey, a man's gotta have a hobby."

"And hair dye aside, I'm not buying that as the reason you've got so much gray. C'mon, I want the truth."

"No way, Beck. You can't handle the truth."

She pokes him again, harder. "Don't deflect by quoting _A Few Good Men_ at me. Besides, you're Air Force, not Marines."

"Details, details," he quips, eyes twinkling.

"They seem to enjoy verbally sparring with each other," Janet dryly observes to Mac, who's grinning at the banter between his brother and niece.

"Oh, yeah," he agrees. "Always fun when there's a full head of steam going between them."

"So c'mon, Uncle Jack, spill. Or do you want to be tickled to death?" Becky swiftly runs her fingers over a certain spot on his left side (where she knows his brother is equally sensitive).

He bites his lip to hide his giggles, then sits up with a mock sigh of annoyance. "Oh, all right. You wanna know the real reason?" He glances behind her and smirks. "It's him. All his fault."

Daniel heaves a long-suffering sigh as he sets the salad bowl on the table. "What did I do wrong this time, Jack?"

"It's your fault I have more gray hairs than my brother. All that stress every time you've gotten us into trouble on one mission or another."

"That's not fair," Becky chimes in. "You've caused your fair share of trouble too, don't forget."

Jack snorts. "What, you think you have to defend this guy just because you're married to him, or something?"

"Hey, I've read the reports. I pay attention. And yeah, as a matter of fact..." as she and Daniel share a loving, heated glance.

"Becky does have a point, Sir," Sam laughs, setting out a stack of plates and eating utensils.

Jack shakes his head. "Not the way I remember it, Carter."

It's kinda cute they're still doing the "Sir/Carter" thing, even after being married for several years. Though now more out of genuine affection for each other than any regard for military protocol.

"Face it, Danny-boy, you're too curious for your own good. Just can't help poking into things. I swear, every gray hair on my head is caused by worrying about you."

"So by that logic," Becky notes with a wry smile, "I should've gotten a ton of gray hairs over the years, every time either of you were on dangerous missions. Heck, I oughta be full-on silver by now, given how much I've worried about you guys."

Mac actually chuckles as he helps Janet up. "She's got a point there, Jack."

"Yeah, sure, you betcha," he concedes with an affectionate ruffle of his niece's hair before loping to the the makeshift grill, expertly turning slices of meat.

Mac cranes his neck to peer over his brother's shoulder. "Don't leave them too long. Are you sure I can't help...?"

"Absolutely not!" Jack and Becky exclaim at the same time, with a mutual shudder.

"Okay, okay. Sheesh! I was only asking."

"I thought Mac had degrees in chemistry and engineering," Daniel remarks to Becky.

"He does," she agrees ruefully. "But get him anywhere near a barbecue and utter disaster follows. I'm talking fireballs fifteen feet high." She lifts her hands to demonstrate. "That's the real reason why he's mostly a vegetarian."

"He almost set the coffee shop on fire when we were kids one Fourth of July," Jack confides to Janet. "So I'd think twice if I were you before asking him to cook meat at your place. "

"I'll have the first-aid kit ready, then," she says, lips twitching. "And a fire extinguisher."

"Hey!" Mac glares at his brother. Jack merely smirks in reply.

"Actually," Becky pipes in, "Mom told me it was because of the homemade fireworks you guys made that year. They were sitting too close to the grill and a stray spark set them off. Not the first time the Mission City Fire Department had to visit because of their shenanigans though, let me tell you."

Sam stifles a laugh, nudges her. "You realize you now have to tell us more about your uncles' childhood, don't you?"

"Definitely," Janet chimes in eagerly.

"Oh, don't worry. I got a ton of stories to share," Becky says with a conspiratorial wink to her aunts. "Perfect blackmail material. Just you wait."

Both brothers roll their eyes.

"I confess to not understanding why Tau'ri are so preoccupied with the appearance of old age," Teal'c observes while neatly slicing two large loaves of bread, fresh from the refectory ovens. "Master Bra'tac has many gray hairs, and is highly esteemed for his wisdom as well as his bravery in battle. I hope to become as respected as he is one day, should I attain elder status among my people."

Jack beams. "I like your thinking, T. They're not gray hairs, they're wisdom highlights!" He spears a piece, holds it out to the Jaffa. "Speaking of wisdom, how about checking this out for me? I don't trust my brother to tell me if it's done."

He takes it, chews meditatively. "Indeed it is."

Mac scowls but snags the second piece. He pretends to be grudging about his agreement with Teal'c.

"Come and get it, campers!" Jack announces, and everyone converges like kids on a puppy, filling plates with delicious food.

"How's the cake?" Sam gazes at Jack's plate wistfully.

"Not bad, considering. Here." He holds up his plate, handing her his fork. When she's about to refuse he says, "No, seriously. You're the one who's pregnant, and our kid could use all the cake he or she can get."

She snorts. "That's not how it works, and you know it." But she takes the fork and shaves a little off, with a morsel of frosting.

"Oh, come on."

"I wouldn't want you to go hungry." Her deadpan's a beautiful thing. She takes a bite. "Mmm. On the other hand it could be bad for you. I might need to confiscate this, do some further investigating."

"Don't even think about it," he chuckles. "Come on, we'll get you your own piece."

Becky feels absurdly pleased, watching her extended family lounging on blankets, enjoying her contribution to the picnic. Jack and Sam feeding each other cake, Mac whispering in Janet's ear (Cassie's staying overnight at a friend's house), Teal'c perfectly content to observe everything with his usual aplomb. Daniel beside her, making appreciative noises over his own piece that set her insides quaking. Everyone laughing, talking and eating.

Perfect.

Also somewhat frightening, considering the challenges they've endured to get to this place and time in one piece. She wishes for a photographic memory, to take a mental snapshot. Keeping this moment in her mind and heart, forever.

_Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die._

As long as everyone's together, things will be okay. Or so Becky hopes.


	2. Midsummer Romance

_Picnics are so very dear to those who are in the first stage of the tender passion. _

_\- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle_

The picnic's winding down, the night looming big and quiet around them. Two moons lend a lambent glow, stars twinkling like jewels against the black velvet backdrop of space. Trees rustle in a gentle breeze.

As a child Becky loved camping outside in the backyard as a family. Staring up at the sky and listen to her uncles point out planets and constellations visible from Earth and spin fabulous yarns.

Amateur astronomers- Jack among them- are getting a kick out of identifying and naming everything visible in this new sky. (Already he's called dibs on naming the moons Patty and Selma, for reasons.)

She closes her eyes, reveling in the soft murmur of intimate conversation, the easy banter of people who care about each other deeply. The crackle and hiss of the fire soothe her into a state of utter peace and contentment. Her thoughts drift along with the woodsmoke into the sky, relishing the peaceful evening with friends and family at the top of the year.

A delightful shiver runs through her body, anticipating the blissful night to come. A warm bed shared with a gentle companion sensitive to her needs, as she is to his own. Soft kisses and tender touches at first, then a slowly building passion until finally engulfed in sheer mutual ecstasy...

"Penny for your thoughts." Her husband smiles down at her, amusement lurking in his beautiful blue eyes.

She shrugs. "Nothing much. Just enjoying the night. Admiring the view. Thinking about later."

Daniel chuckles, leaning down to kiss her softly before settling behind her on the blanket. She leans back against his chest as his arms encircle her, reveling in his warmth, the comforting solidity of his presence. The deep pleasure of loving and being loved by her soulmate.

"Are you happy, _kolibro_?" he murmurs, nuzzling her ear tenderly.

"Mmm-hmm. You, _korvo_?"

(It's a thing they've been doing for years, trading endearments in every language they both know. This evening it's Esperanto: Hummingbird and Raven.)

"Oh happy enough, except I'd kill for a cup of decent coffee right about now."

An impish smile. "Maybe we need to find a planet that grows a caffeinated equivalent and see what they'd like in trade. Better if they also have something similar to chocolate."

He smirks. "You and your sweet tooth."

"You and your coffee addiction. Besides, it runs in the family. You know Jack and cake? You should see Uncle Mac with ice cream."

"Somehow I'm not surprised." Clever hands lift her hair, wrapping strands around long, slender fingers.

"Any gray hairs showing up there?" she asked after a few blissful moments savoring his gentle touch.

"Not yet. But I'll treasure every one when they appear, as signs of your wisdom and courage."

Becky rolls her eyes. "Sheesh. Just like Uncle Jack to turn getting old into an opportunity to wax sarcastic."

"Doesn't mean it's not true," Daniel says softly, caressing her cheek. "And you'll always be beautiful to me, no matter how old and gray we get. 'Maybe the hairs on my head were numbered-'"

"-'but nobody could ever count my love for you'," she finishes the quote, smiling up at her fellow bookworm. "Della to Jim, _The Gift of the Magi _by O. Henry."

"A Christmas story of a couple both wise and foolish at the same time." A corner of his mouth turns up. "Kinda like us."

"Yeah. Holiday stories at Midsummer, go figure. Everything will be pretty mixed up for a while anyway, until we start developing some real traditions as a community."

"There's at least one well-established already," Daniel notes, with a fond glance at the matching braided leather bracelets on their wrists- dyed blue, to go with their eyes. "Apparently we started a trend. Cassie's become the official supplier for anyone getting married."

"Good for her. She's so talented with handicrafts, it's wonderful she can make a go of it."

"She should be, you taught her well over the years."

Becky flushes, gives a one-sided shrug. "Seriously, I'm glad Uncle Mac got together with Janet. Looks like he's really taken a shine to both her and Cassie. Given his relationship issues in the past, I was afraid he'd stay a bachelor the rest of his life."

"I'm glad, too," Daniel says soberly. "No one should be alone these days if they don't want to be. Not if we're to have a chance."

"Yeah." So many lost already, to the earthquakes and tsunamis plaguing Old Earth before its untimely end.

And she the sole witness to its complete destruction, thanks to the Asgard.

She probably would've gone crazy from the nightmares caused by the suppressed memory before the memorial service, if it wasn't for the love and support of her extended family. An unlikely group gathered together by both genetics and circumstance, fiercely loyal and loving.

Especially Daniel, as her best friend, lover- and, eventually, husband.

Tears come to her eyes and he pulls her closer. On the same wavelength as always, ever since they first met in Seattle. He gently touches the bracelet on his right wrist with the matching one on her left and presses his cheek against hers. Her breath catches in her throat at the tender gesture.

"Don't think about that right now," he soothes. "We have a present to enjoy, and a future together. It's time to leave the past in the past."

She snickers. "Says the archaeologist with three doctorates."

He gently nips at her earlobe; she shivers in delight as his lips trail to the soft, sensitive spot behind it. "Your _beloved_ archaeologist, don't forget. _Mia kuraĝa princino_."

She reaches for him, fingers trailing through soft brown hair. "_Mia saĝa princo,_" she sighs.

The Brave Princess and her Scholar Prince. A new chapter in the long-running story first told by her Uncle Mac, long ago.

Their lips meet, warm and inviting at first yet swiftly turning heated and passionate. A burst of laughter from across the firepit makes Becky pull away, a blush tinting her pale cheeks. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this in public."

"I don't mind." Daniel surges forward to take her lips again, threading his hands through her hair as the kiss deepens. With a faint moan she surrenders.

"Oh for crying out loud, you two. Get a room, already!"

Becky smirks across the fire at Jack. "You're one to talk, seeing as how you and Sam are so cozily entwined."

He grins at his niece, running a slow hand down his wife's back, who sleepily murmurs her approval. "That's why I know what I'm talking about. Time for bed, kids. Big day tomorrow. Trade negotiations, remember? I need my linguists well-rested."

Daniel stands fluidly, pulling Becky up beside him. "Shall we follow your uncle's orders?"

She raises an eyebrow. "When have you ever before now?"

"Don't you start. Sometimes you're too much like him for comfort."

"But you gotta admit I'm much cuter. Shorter, too."

He chuckles, pushing up her glasses. "That you are. Let's get out of here."

She loves the way his hand rests gently on the small of her back as they bid everyone goodnight. The way he casually threads his fingers with hers as they head home. The way he still bends his head to listen to her speak, just like in Seattle. The way they alternate between long extensive conversations and moments of meaningful silence, both easily understood either way.

How lucky they are, to have found love between the end of one world and the beginning of another.

As they reach their front door Becky stops, looks up at the night sky. "The stars seem so far away yet so close at the same time. Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is." He unlocks the door, but first leads her to a wicker chair on the front porch. "And so are you, _karulo_."

Sweetheart. Daniel makes such a caress of the Esperantan endearment it makes her weak in the knees.

At his invitation she sits on his lap, reveling in the strong arms, the broad shoulders, the long clever fingers making circles over the small of her back. How he holds her so tightly, yet so gently against him. The sheer amount of masculine desire lurking in his beautiful blue eyes.

Desire for her.

They kiss for long minutes. "_Vi estas ĉio, kara_," she whispers as they come up for air, foreheads touching. "_Ĉiam kaj eterne._"

"Everything, beloved. Always and forever_,_" he agrees, tenderly pushing her hair back from her face.

"You know," she murmurs as he nuzzles her neck, "Allia's at the babysitter's overnight."

"Driving him crazy, no doubt," he chuckles. "Poor Walter."

Allia Sharon, three years old, already speaking at least four different languages and just as precocious as her parents. Her father's pride and her mother's joy.

"Which means," she continues, toying with the buttons on his shirt, "we have the house all to ourselves until the morning..." She gives him a coy look over the rim of her glasses.

"Do we now." Daniel says, giving her a smirk worthy of one Jack O'Neill. "You wouldn't happen to have any ideas how to pass the time, would you?"

"Well, we could always read. But if you _really_ want to know..."

He leans forward, nipping playfully at her neck. "Oh, I do. Believe me."

Becky leans in close, lips barely touching his ear. Whispers in Esperanto, making his eyes widen at her deliciously dirty suggestions.

She pulls away, noting with a sense of triumph the flush on his cheeks, the blown pupils, the full lips parted open in surprise.

Rendering her husband speechless has been one of the most worthwhile goals in her life. She's been able to achieve it several times so far, to their mutual satisfaction.

"Do you require a translation, Dr. Jackson?" she asks, pushing his glasses up and smiling innocently.

His answer is swift and immediate, crushing her mouth to his. "My dear Dr. Grahme," he purrs in a husky voice, dripping with sensuality. "I think we should take this conference inside before the night watch arrests us for public indecency. For I fully intend to follow your suggestions. To. The. Letter," punctuating each of the last three words with a kiss.

"Oh Daniel," Becky giggles as he lifts her easily, carrying her into their house and shutting the door behind them. "You say the sweetest things..."

This is one memory she'll keep in her heart and mind forever. The delightful picnic, the soft Midsummer night, the warmth and comfort of friends and family.

And a truly blissful night ahead with her life's companion.

* * *

_Esperanto words and phrases courtesy of Google Translate._


End file.
